Covered Bridge Charm

by Christner, Dianne;

  “I knew John was after her. Figured he’d marry her while I was away. Of course we had no commitments. She wouldn’t leave her faith for me. I came from a military family, and she couldn’t abide that.”

  “I’m sorry. Would you like to be her friend now?”

  He dipped his head, and at first Carly thought he’d fallen asleep. She glanced at Jason, who shook his head. So she waited. Finally he raised his head. “The Lord is my Shepherd now. It’s always best to consult Him before making decisions. Yes, I’d like to see her again.”

  “Sweet Life is run-down compared to your home.”

  “She looks dumpy, eh?”

  “No, no,” Carly exclaimed. “The assisted-living facility.”

  He shook his head. “That’s not important. I know Jason and I are spoiled, but we’re not snooty.”

  “Good! Martha’s daughter is planning a surprise birthday party for her. Would you like to come?”

  “I won’t give her a heart attack, will I?”

  “No. Her heart’s strong. She suffers from asthma, though.”

  “I remember. Poor thing. Jason. Find out what kind of gift she’d like.”

  After a gentle tap, a pleasant woman entered the room. “Time for your meds, Gramps.”

  They took their leave then, and Carly couldn’t contain her excitement. She squeezed Jason’s arm. “Thank you so much. I’m thrilled. I can’t even express how I feel.”

  Laughing, he gave her a one-armed hug. Releasing her, he said, “You’re really good with the elderly. Thanks for giving Gramps something to anticipate.”

  “You’re welcome.” She couldn’t wait to tell Adam. He’d promised to call. Maybe tonight?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  The anticipated phone call didn’t come until Sunday afternoon when Adam should’ve been sitting on a plane to return home.

  “I miss you,” he said.

  “Miss you, too. But I thought you should be in the air about now.”

  “I changed my flight.”

  Carly’s stomach clenched. “What’s going on?”

  “I got the job finished, but Dale had forgotten about a lumber order that would arrive on Monday. It needs to be stacked in his shop. He’s got a small forklift, but it still takes hands on to get the job done. By staying a couple extra days, I can get him all caught up and feel better about leaving him, helpless as he is.”

  Carly paced and stared out her kitchen window. “You’re a good friend, but isn’t there someone at his church who can help him?”

  “That’s another thing. They fell out of the habit of attending church. I think he needs encouragement in that direction. I’m hoping for an opportunity to talk more about it.”

  Her stomach churned. But it didn’t surprise her. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Have you heard from Jason Irish?”

  “Oh, jah. He took me to meet his gramps.”

  “You mean he came to Sweet Home to get you?” Adam asked, his tone incredulous.

  “Jah. Pretty sweet of him, huh?”

  His voice screeched. “You allowed a stranger to haul you to Portland and back?”

  A squirrel scampered across the yard and out of Carly’s view. She turned away from the window. “He’s not a stranger. He’s a compassionate individual who works at a homeless shelter. Even though he has a ton of money, he drives an old bike to work. The reason he seemed cold when we first met him was because he’s responsible for protecting Gramps from people who are after his fortune.”

  “That may or may not be true. You only have his word on it. But you still shouldn’t have gone with him.”

  She sighed and sank onto her sofa. “If you would have met Gramps, you’d know. It gets tiresome having you and Jimmy telling me what I shouldn’t be doing.”

  “Sorry.” But his tone was anything but agreeable.

  The line went awkwardly silent, and Carly knew she couldn’t allow him to hang up before she asked the question so heavy on her heart. “So did they set you up with Jenny’s friend?” Silence lingered. Disappointment enveloped her. “They did.”

  “Not like you’re imagining. But the job I did was for Cynthia. She was there for the install, and she’s pretty much a part of the family. She told me she’s concerned for Jenny, hoping she’ll start going to church again.”

  Cocoa hopped onto her lap and stretched to lick her salty cheek. “Why don’t they go to church?”

  “There was a dispute about bringing instruments into the worship service. You know they attend a liberal church similar to Uncle Si’s. Guess they were sickened by the church split and thought they’d stay away and heal. Only they aren’t going anyplace now.”

  Pushing Cocoa down, she replied, “That’s so sad.”

  “For my conscience’ sake, I really needed to stay and do what I can to help them. Dad didn’t like it much, but like you said, it’s tiresome to have people trying to change my mind about things.”

  “Jah. I get that.” Guess I had that coming.

  “Well I need to hop in the shower.”

  “I appreciate the call.”

  “Miss you.”

  “You, too.”

  The next day as Carly flew down the hill at the end of her street, cold air burned her red swollen eyes. Into the wee hours, she’d wrestled between believing Adam or reading more into his actions. If he decided to move to Indiana, she’d be devastated. In her misery, she discovered a deeper root for her distress. She was lacking God’s peace. Once she was able to cast aside her own wishes and offer God her future, His peace filled her. She closed her eyes now, relishing the Holy Spirit’s presence.

  And that’s why she was blinded to the skateboarder who darted out from a side street. The collision sent them both skidding across asphalt. Something hard crashed into her face and blackness followed. Moments later, she stirred to find the concerned features of a teenage boy hovering over her.

  “You all right?”

  “I think so.” She raised on one elbow. The kid’s backpack was in the ditch alongside her bike. “Are you? I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.”

  “My fault.” He explained, “When I saw we were going to hit, I ditched my board. It hit your front tire and bounced up and hit your face. It’s all bloody. Looks like your nose is broke. And you already have a shiner.”

  “Help me up? See if I can stand?” The boy pulled, and she was able to rise, pretty sure nothing else was broken. She straightened her skirt, noticing it was stained, her stockings torn.

  “You skidded quite a ways.”

  “Wow.” She tenderly touched her nose, then her eye, and withdrew a bloody hand. She felt queasy. “I’d better go home.”

  “I’ve seen you before. You live up the hill.” He retrieved his backpack and skateboard. “I’m gonna be late for school if I don’t get going. But you look bad. You should go to the doctor.”

  She smiled, and her whole face throbbed. “Go on. I’m fine.”

  “You sure?” he asked, slipping into his backpack.

  “Jah.”

  The kid snatched up his skateboard and sped down the hill. Carly started toward the ditch, wincing with pain. She groaned when she saw her back fender was dented. The worst yet, she mumbled walking it up the hill. Wonder if this ever happens to Jason.

  At home, she’d barely made it into the house when there was a rap and the door opened. “Look at you,” Imogene exclaimed. “I couldn’t believe it when I saw you out my kitchen window. You got a first aid kit?”

  “Jah, in the bathroom.”

  “Sit down, honey. Let me take care of you.”

  Carly sat at the table and called Sweet Life. “I had an accident on my bike. I’m not going to be able to come in today.” She shook her head, “No, I’m okay. Just banged up. My face collided with a skateboard.” Imogene returned with the first aid kit and a hand mirror for Carly to see her face. “I’ll keep in touch. Bye.” She clicked off the phone and looked into the mirror. With a gasp, she said, “I look like a m
onster.”

  “Let me clean it up. You need to go to the doctor.” Imogene worked, clucking over her like a mother hen. “You’re going to need stitches on your temple. Change your clothes, and I’ll go get the car.”

  As Carly moved to the bedroom, every muscle ached. When she got home, she was going to crawl into bed for a week.

  During her three-day convalescence, Carly was convicted about her outburst to Adam. I’m tired of people telling me what I shouldn’t do. Though she didn’t like people interfering with her plans, her recent spill reminded her that she needed caring people in her life. Between her neighbor’s concern and Aunt Fannie’s tongue lashing, she felt loved. She’d spent time reading the scriptures and praying for renewal.

  Her body was battered. While her clothing covered the bruises, her broken nose—though set by the attending physician under anesthesia—was swollen and purple. Her shiner had turned yellow, but she could cover her stitches by carefully swooping her hair over the area in a ridiculous manner, compared to her normal style.

  Her first day back at work, the residents stared at her as she gazed at the beautifully decorated Christmas tree gracing the lobby.

  Becca nodded with pride. “Volunteers and residents. Ain’t it gorgeous?”

  While Old Holley Fellowship didn’t decorate trees for Christmas, she couldn’t deny it provided a wondrous touch.

  “Wait till you see it at night.”

  Dot looked at the tree, then at Carly. “What happened? You look like a freak show.”

  “Freak show,” Repeater said, seeming pleased with himself.

  The residents didn’t want to talk about the tree. They wanted to talk about Carly. They managed to get the entire story of her accident during breakfast.

  “I was going down this long hill by my home so I’d picked up quite a bit of speed. Then a skateboarder darted out of a side street, and we collided.”

  Dot’s eyes widened. “You ran over a kid? Did you kill him?”

  Martha shook her head. “She doesn’t drive a car. She was on a bike.”

  “He saw the collision coming before I did and ditched the skateboard. It hit my tire and bounced up at my face.”

  “You used to be so pretty.” Dot’s eyes softened and distanced. “Jack fell down and broke his crown.”

  Crusher patted her hand and looked sympathetically at Carly, mouthing, “Sorry.”

  Carly smiled, glad that Crusher seemed happier these days, now that he had his new model-car-kit hobby to keep his mind occupied.

  “She’s still pretty,” Martha defended.

  “Thanks. Now let’s change the subject. Tell me what kind of birthday cake you want me to bake. Red Velvet or German Chocolate?”

  “It’s my birthday?” Martha asked.

  Carly’s heart filled with sadness. Ever since Martha’s trip to the care center, she’d been having frightening memory lapses.

  The General, who’d been fiddling with his hearing aids, piped in, “Scars just add character.” Standing, he started to unbutton his shirt. “Wanna see my war scars?”

  “No,” the women squealed in unison.

  After that, forgetful as many of the residents were, they continued to question her all day long. Each time, Carly’s explanations grew shorter until she quipped, “Just a biking accident.” And her frustration increased with their childlike insults.

  Miranda, who’d watched the breakfast scene unfold, later drew Carly aside. “Sorry about the accident. I wanted to visit you. To help. But I don’t have a car.”

  “You did help by carrying the extra load here.”

  “You’re right about that. It takes two people to replace you, and of course, we only had one. Plus Becca. A new guy, Brett, is starting a computer class. He even got some people to donate two computers.”

  “That’s great.”

  “Crusher’s his first enrollee.”

  “Really?” Carly was stunned. She imagined him too conservative-minded to learn computer but wouldn’t judge him.

  “And with the new companion volunteers coming in and out… it all helps.”

  Carly grinned. “Exactly.”

  “But I’m glad you’re back.”

  Feeling Miranda’s sympathetic gaze, Carly replied, “Thanks. The doctor said I won’t have any war scars.”

  Miranda laughed. “Good to know.” She whispered, “Don’t let the General hear you.”

  “No kidding.”

  “I suppose Jimmy and Fannie both want to take your bike away.”

  Normally that would’ve raised Carly’s ire. But since her prayers, the old defensiveness was diminishing. “Guess we’re in the same boat. Neither of us have cars. With you in Albany and me in Sweet Home, it’s hard to develop a friendship outside of work.”

  “If I stay here, I’ll get a car. Or maybe a cute scooter like Aesop drives. It’s hard to live on the smidgen I get from V. S.” One of Miranda’s eyebrows lifted. “I don’t mean to be nosey, but you get a pretty good salary here, right?”

  “It’s plenty. I could afford a car, but I choose to live with less.” No need to tell Miranda how much of her paycheck poured back into Sweet Life. “So you’re thinking about staying after your V. S. term is over?”

  Miranda nodded. “I like it here.”

  “I hope you stay.”

  Miranda pulled her into a bear hug.

  “Ah-h. Careful.”

  “Oh, sorry. Maybe we can beat fate. A couple of us from the house are going to a Christmas craft festival. We could swing by and pick you up.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t look so great to meet new people right now.”

  “They’ll love you. Think you’re brave. If you like, I can put some makeup on you.”

  “I don’t know about that. But I do need to find a gift for Aunt Fannie.”

  But further planning was shelved when Nines came crying, “My picture of Teacup is missing. And I know who took it.”

  “Before we accuse anybody, let’s go check your room. Maybe the cleaning lady moved it.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  After work, Carly soaked in her tub, laughing at Cocoa’s antics visible through the open door. The rabbit scurried from room to room, leaping and twisting in the air as if to lure Carly to join his play. “Sorry, but I’m not so energetic. You probably slept all day.” Cocoa, made another leap and scraped the wall. “Uh, oh. You okay?” He scampered away in embarrassment.

  When the phone rang, she stepped onto a bath mat and snatched her robe from the back of the door.

  “Hi. It’s me, Jason.”

  “Oh. Hi.” Carly sank onto her yellow quilt and lay back against the pillow.

  “Gramps is excited about the party. Keeps asking me what to get Martha for a present. Any ideas?”

  “A book? She’s an intellectual. Loves to talk about current events. Unfortunately since John died, she doesn’t have anyone to talk politics. I read the paper with her whenever I can.”

  “No wonder they clicked. I’m sure Gramps can find a good book.”

  There was a moment of silence, and Carly ventured, “I thought of you this week.”

  “You did? I’ve been thinking about you, too.”

  She felt her cheeks sizzle, realizing he’d taken it wrong. “When I dumped my bike.”

  “Whoa. What happened?”

  “You know the hill at the end of my street?”

  “Mm-hm.”

  “I collided with a skateboarder.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Exactly. I broke my nose.”

  His voice held concern. “I’m sorry. Hope everything’s reparable?”

  “I look nasty, but I’ll heal. The kid got off with minor scrapes. Am I the only one who takes spills?”

  “Hardly. I crashed into a tree one time when I was looking the other way. That stopped me in my tracks. Another time, I was passing a car and a man opened the rear door and I slid halfway under his car.”

  She laughed, easily picturing herself d
oing similar things, only it seemed funnier to imagine his tall, lean body taking the hits.

  “Laughing at me? Now you owe me. And I’ve got the perfect way to collect.”

  “Jah? How’s that?”

  “I’m coming to Albany this weekend for a charity event for the homeless. It’s called Super City Event. We set up a clinic and barber shop. There’s free food and employment agencies for those seeking employment.”

  “I’ll bet that’s something to see.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that. The clinic could use help, and since you’re a caregiver…”

  “But not a nurse,” she reminded him.

  “I understand. But they need extra hands. And hey, if you look a little beat up, you’ll fit right in at the clinic.”

  She laughed. “Ha. Ha. Sorry, but I already made plans for Saturday.”

  “How about Sunday? I can pick you up.”

  She wasn’t sure how others in her church would feel about skipping the service, but she had no qualms when it was for a good cause. “Jah I’d like that.” She heard an engine pull into her drive and pulled back her curtain. “Jason. I’ve got to go. Adam just pulled into my drive.”

  “Okay, tell him hi. Talk to ya later.”

  She pulled her robe tight and went to the door. When he rapped, she opened it just a crack and peeked out at him with a grin. “Hi. I’m glad you’re home.”

  “Carly? What happened to you?”

  “Just a bike accident.”

  He started to push the door open.

  “Wait! Give me a minute to dress, and I’ll be right back.” She shut the door and hurried into a dress and stockings before she returned. “Sorry about that.”

  “No problem.” He took her hand and massaged her thumb. “What happened?”

  For the umpteenth time that day, she repeated the story. Earlier with Jason, it seemed funny, but with Adam’s concerned eyes peering into hers and his brows arched in that judgmental V, she felt embarrassed.

  “A skateboarder?” He shook his head and perched on the edge of her sofa, patting the cushion. Pulling her into his embrace, he whispered, “It’s good to be back. You need somebody to take care of you.”